Snippet #2689177

Lady Markett.

Una groaned internally. She did not like being called a lady. It was thrust upon her by birth but by no means did House Markett consider Una a lady. She was a bastard and nothing more to them. And yet, there she stood before the massive gates of Krinsgate a warrior and a Holy Cleric of the Order.

Neither did Una wished for any to know of her location. No doubt that the Traegar house and now her own would know where it was that Una was travelling. She must move from this place soon and rider for Skyfall Citadel at once.

The gates swung outward as shouts of men called out orders. After the wizard had called out Una's name, the men were quick to forget their grievance against the orc. If such a creature was in the company of a noble who were they to question. They did not wish to be put to the gallows for treasoneous acts.

Una kept a grip as much as she could on the orc's arm. She could bear no weight down on her ankle. It had swollen in the boot and throbbed for the mere pressure of being a lower body injury. It was likely broken.

"Hear not their words, Oaklum," said Una. "They carry the grudges of old men past, centuries long gone from the Territorial Wars. It is not their words, nor were they mine. Humans are not terribly smart creatures..." Perhaps the apology from her lips would suffice to the orc. She'd not dishonored the gods by offending their gift.

"I must find a cleric," Una said to Oaklum.